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I plucked a Canna flower when I was a kid. It began to wry as I twirled its stem between
my fingers. By the time I reached school I felt horrible for doing that to a flower that looked like fire as it fluttered with the wind. After that day I never plucked flowers. I nurtured a deep loved for them.
We were asked to sign a pollution free city notice promising that we would never fire crackers for any celebration. I signed it as a child and I never fired crackers since.
‘It seldom ever happens when one really moves beyond one’s own self and extends to another being in a way he/she approaches to his/her own self,’ my grandmother tells me as she recalls the horrifying tragedy of the Partition of 1947 in our country, a suspension of humanity that…
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